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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399416">Half of Always</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfBakedPoet/pseuds/HalfBakedPoet'>HalfBakedPoet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shot, Two Shot, Some Shots, Blue Box [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, General tomfoolery, Heart-to-Heart, One Shot, They're actually doing it you guys, thasmin, they're having a real conversation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:47:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfBakedPoet/pseuds/HalfBakedPoet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Slumber party at Yaz's.<br/>(The TARDIS is the ultimate wingman.)<br/>Set after the events of "Surrender"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shot, Two Shot, Some Shots, Blue Box [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Half of Always</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The familiar thud signaled their arrival outside the Khan residence.</p><p>“Home sweet Sheffield,” said the Doctor cheerily, flipping switches and levers back into place. She furrowed her brows. “Mm, I’m not liking that one. Should probably stick with ‘here we are.’” The TARDIS sighed and a lever flipped into the Doctor’s ribs, causing her to wince. “Oi, a little patience! We just got here, no need to be fussy.”</p><p>Yaz shouldered her backpack, watching. The Doctor had been quieter than usual on the return journey, her enthusiasm and optimism bordering on overkill when called upon. Combined with the fact that they had made <em>several </em>stops on the way back, Yaz felt the need to nudge: the Doctor was worried about this return. “You alright if I’m here for a bit? Work’s expecting me to report on my… secondment,” said Yaz. “I should stick around for a little while.”</p><p>“Oh, sure, I’m fine,” said the Doctor, not looking at her. She leaned close to the console to examine a small instrument that looked like a blood pressure gauge. “Be good to be home. Holiday from a holiday?”</p><p>Yaz hovered by the door and peered outside, her hand latched to the handle. It was late, probably past ten: the darkened sidewalk was illuminated by runoff light from television screens and lamps through windows above. Yaz counted from the ground until she found her family’s window. Frowning, she turned back to the Doctor.</p><p>“What’s today?”</p><p>The Doctor glanced at the console. “Fourteenth of July, like you asked?”</p><p>“And you’re sure of that?”</p><p>“Positive! I think.” She squinted at the console and tapped a screen. Satisfied her eyes weren’t deceiving her, the Doctor shrugged at Yaz. “Looks like the right day.” Her eyes widened for a millisecond. “Oh, year.” She checked once more, hair flying as she whipped back around. “Nope, twenty-nineteen. Why?”</p><p>“There’s no light coming from the windows of my flat.” Yaz pulled her phone from her pocket, which was buzzing with texts she’d missed. One from Mum and two from Sonya. She opened Najia’s message first.</p><p>
  <em>Are you coming home soon? I hope the Doctor’s treating you well and you’re safe. xx, Mum</em>
</p><p>With bated breath, Yaz checked the text date. Two weeks ago. “Nothing to worry about,” she muttered to herself as she opened Sonya’s texts.</p><p><em>Hey, mum’s asked me to text, need to know if you’re coming home. Holiday stuff. </em>That was a week and a half ago.</p><p><em>Looks like you got out of this one. See you in August, I hope. </em>Yesterday.</p><p>Yaz bit her lip, her stomach sinking. Family holiday, of course. Somewhere between acid rafting on Corenia and outrunning a rogue android convinced it was some alien species akin to an overlarge, rabid cheetah, she’d forgotten about planning. Sonya had employed her finest passive aggression here, and the layered “I hope” did its work: Yaz wanted to melt into the pavement. “I hope” meant “I miss you”. “I hope” meant “if we don’t kill each other before we get back”. “I hope” meant “don’t forget about us”. “I hope” meant “if you’re ever coming back”.  Swallowing her guilt, Yaz made a mental note to tell the Doctor to install the TARDIS phone plan on her family’s mobiles so they could reach her.</p><p>“You know, I heard somewhere it’s rude to linger in thresholds,” said the Doctor conversationally, ambling over. “Or was it sitting on windowsills?” She shook her head. “Everything alright?”</p><p>“Fine, they’re just… out. Left yesterday. Khan family holiday. I… forgot.”</p><p>“We could pop back to when they left,” the Doctor suggested, leaning against the opposite side of the doorframe. “Perks of time travel.” She grinned.</p><p>Yaz nodded and they closed the door behind them. The Doctor started winding cranks and pressing buttons, but the TARDIS buzzed at her.</p><p>“What, we’re only going back one—oi!” The TARDIS buzzed louder and began spitting biscuits from the dispenser. Custard creams shot around the console room, bouncing off the pillars and walls. “Not the biscuits!” Yaz and the Doctor dove for cover. “Alright, alright, I’ll fix the vortex flux regulator, just stop—ouch!” The Doctor had poked her head over the edge of the console and a custard cream smacked her squarely between the eyes. This seemed to appease the TARDIS, which fell silent, biscuit dispenser disengaging with a click. Scowling, the Doctor emerged from her hiding spot, rubbing her forehead. She took a grumpy bite of the offending biscuit.</p><p>“Looks like we’re stuck here until I fix her up, Yaz. Don’t think I want to right away, though,” she said looking forlornly at the litter of custard creams all over the floor. “Waste of good biscuits, if you ask me,” she muttered, crunching. The TARDIS clicked with what Yaz interpreted either as satisfaction, or else a threat of re-engaging the dispenser, and the Doctor started scooping biscuits from the floor into her pockets. </p><p>“I take it the TARDIS isn’t happy with you?” Yaz gave the Doctor her own handfuls of custard creams.</p><p>“Oh well spotted, but I can’t see why! Only been ignoring the check engine light since…” The Doctor paused to count on her fingers. “Oh. That <em>is </em>a while.” She closed her eyes and her mouth flattened into a line as another biscuit hit the back of her head.</p><p>“Should I leave you two alone?” asked Yaz, suppressing a smile. Sometimes she could swear the Doctor and her TARDIS fought like a married couple.</p><p>“Nah, should probably leave <em>her </em>alone for a bit. Go for a walk, let her cool down before I take a look at the engines.” The Doctor shoved her hands in her pockets, still half-frowning.</p><p>“You could come up,” said Yaz. “Have a cuppa before you come back. No one’s home, won’t be a bother.”</p><p>“Yes. Brilliant idea,” said the Doctor immediately, splitting into her wide grin. Taking Yaz by the elbow, she marched them to the door.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t that the Doctor was upset at dropping off Yaz; she dropped Yaz at home all the time. Nor was she worried about being alone—probably the least of her worries, if she thought about it. Things would be quieter, and she could hear herself think. Some of her best problem solving happened on her own. And if she felt the need to be alone a shorter time, she’d just take the TARDIS to the next pickup date, scoop Yaz, and that would be that. The Doctor smiled to herself as Yaz unlocked the door to her family’s flat, keys jangling on the chain, and she spotted Yaz’s TARDIS key among them.</p><p>The TARDIS would have blipped at her at this point. <em>But you are worried about being alone</em>.</p><p>“Sure I’m not,” she said to herself while Yaz trailed down the hall to her room to drop her backpack.</p><p>She’d had a serious conversation or two with the TARDIS after their last couple of stops, while Yaz slept. Flat on her back under the console with a wrench and her sonic, goggles on, she had just bid Yaz good night and was making adjustments to the spatial capacitor interface relay with newfound gusto. The TARDIS hummed at her.</p><p>
  <em>You seem cheery enough.</em>
</p><p>“No’ ou’ o’ the or’nary,” said the Doctor, sonic between her teeth. She scanned the main bolts and wiring. “Bit of corrosion down here,” she muttered. “I’m a cheerful person!” The TARDIS made throaty chuckling noise, insomuch as she could. “What? I can be happy without a reason.” The sonic buzzed, siphoning the thin layer of rust and grit from a panel.</p><p>Blip. <em>It’s Yaz, isn’t it?</em></p><p>“What about Yaz?” The Doctor’s cheeks flushed, and she wasn’t sure if it was with the effort of dislodging a crushed bolt from between two thick pipes.</p><p>
  <em>You know very well what.</em>
</p><p>“No, I don’t,” she said quickly. She pulled the bolt free with a grunt.</p><p>
  <em>What would River say?</em>
</p><p>The Doctor’s ears burned and she took her time choosing an answer. “Well, that’s cheeky. River would understand. Not like monogamy was her style, either.” The floor vibrated under her and the Doctor sighed, arm holding the sonic coming to rest by her head. “Yeah. I miss her, too.” She snapped back to her work. “She’d love this face, don’t you think?” She tightened a screw. “…Or has she?”</p><p><em>Spoilers</em>. The Doctor could practically hear River say this in unison with the TARDIS. <em>She’s not the first.</em></p><p>“No. You knew that already,” said the Doctor as she slid out from beneath the console. She dusted her hands on the leather shop apron, placed the wrench in its chest pocket, and pulled the strap over her head. The goggles followed, and the TARDIS beeped softly as the Doctor draped them over a rail.</p><p>
  <em>Or the last.</em>
</p><p>The Doctor rested her hands on the console, leaning toward the center crystal, amber light warming her face. For a split second, she wanted to retort with cutting sarcasm, but thought better of it. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>Yaz returned in pajama trousers and an overlarge t-shirt with cracked, faded print reading <em>Back to the Future</em>. The Doctor smiled, and Yaz, caught off guard, froze.</p><p>“Appropriate,” said the Doctor, switching on the kettle. “They <em>almost </em>got time paradoxes right in that one.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s… my dad’s.” Yaz looked down at the shirt. “He doesn’t know I have it.” She busied herself fetching mugs and tea bags. “Milk?”</p><p>“Sure. Biscuits?” Yaz held her mouth open in half a grimace as the Doctor found a saucer and deposited custard creams onto it from her pockets. She hadn’t expected the Doctor to actually <em>eat </em>the floor biscuits. Things that went into the Doctor’s pockets didn’t always make it back out for months; Yaz suspected the Doctor had installed a small amount of dimensional engineering to them. She had sincerely hoped that the biscuits would disappear like the stray pebbles and tiny glass bottles, among other things rolling around in that coat, specifically so the Doctor wouldn’t eat them off the floor. But then, Yaz reminded herself that she’d seen the Doctor snack on soil, so biscuits that had spent a minute on the TARDIS floor probably weren’t the worst.</p><p>“Pass.”</p><p>Yaz switched on a side table lamp and they plopped on the couch, dipping their tea bags. The Doctor folded her legs on the tails of her coat; her saucer of custard creams resting on the arm of the couch. For a while, the sound of companionable sipping was enough.</p><p>“It’s quiet without everyone here,” said the Doctor. She nibbled a tea-dampened biscuit. “You know where they went?”</p><p>“Not a clue,” said Yaz. “Suppose I could text and ask, but if we go back to yesterday, I’ll have never sent it, right?”</p><p>“More like they won’t receive it, but yeah, it won’t exist to them.” The Doctor observed Yaz with mild concern, eyebrows arcing gently upward. “Are you worried about it?”</p><p>“A bit,” she admitted. “I feel so guilty. We’re off to all these far places in the universe and family holiday seems so… mundane. But then, I miss planning and helping out, and I realize they’re living without me. And I’m living without them. I <em>miss </em>them.”</p><p>The Doctor’s mouth curved up on one side. “Yasmin Khan, you’re growing up a little.”</p><p>“Is that a bad thing?” Yaz clasped her mug between both hands, staring hard down into her tea.</p><p>“Not at all! Always a good thing, valuing your family. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of that.”</p><p>“You’re not,” said Yaz carefully. “It’s more like… <em>I’m </em>in my own way here.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“I…” Yaz fell silent and instead took a mouthful of tea to distract herself from the Doctor’s intent stare. She could feel the warmth trickling down in her chest. Was there even a good way to say it? “I don’t want to leave you, don’t think I ever would.”</p><p>The Doctor blinked; she swallowed hard. “Is there a ‘but’ dangling on that sentence?”</p><p>“No, that’s just it. I said I’m with you, I always will be. It’s fact by now.” Yaz traced the rim of her mug.</p><p>The Doctor delicately licked her lips, the tip of her tongue just passing her teeth, her expression unreadable. She moved her mug and biscuits to the coffee table and turned to fully face Yaz, her back against the arm of the couch. “You realize ‘always’ to you isn’t ‘always’ to me,” she said, her eyes apologetic and her voice soft. “Forever is a subjective thing, especially when you’re old as I am.”</p><p>“As long as I live, then,” said Yaz, scowling. She set her mug on the table with a little more force than necessary. “It may be subjective, but I’m at least one half of the say in that ‘forever’ or ‘always’.”</p><p>The Doctor smiled that maddeningly sad smile again. “That you are.”</p><p>“What?” said Yaz. “What’re you thinking?” <em>Just tell me.</em></p><p>“I think…” said the Doctor, “I think this is more than a cuppa chat.” And she brightened, almost too bright, diverting the conversation as she voiced her idea. “Slumber party at Yaz’s?”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to do that, we have blankets and stuff,” said Yaz. For the past half hour, the Doctor had sprinted back and forth between the Khan family flat and the TARDIS, bringing back armloads of sleeping bags, squashy pillows, packs of crisps, popcorn kernels, and she had just returned with a bag of marshmallows. She, too, had changed into blue pajama bottoms and a rainbow-patterned jumper, her coat over top of both. Finished making trips, she dumped her boots by the door and pulled on fuzzy slippers shaped like sea otters floating on their backs.</p><p>“Can’t remember the last time I had a slumber party,” said the Doctor with glee, picking up one end of the coffee table to make space on the living room floor. “I think it was either with Diogenes or Marilyn Monroe. You wouldn’t know it, but a pot is actually very comfortable.” Yaz scrambled to help, and, finished with the table, they pushed the couch backward into the dining room. “D’you think we should set up a fort or just kip on the open floor?”</p><p>Four dining room chairs, a pair of sheets, and all the blankets piled underneath later, the Doctor wedged a flashlight between two pillows while Yaz turned out the lights. The flashlight illuminated the whole fort, which extended from the couch in the dining room, opening on the other end of the living room, should they decide to watch a movie. The popcorn had been popped, and the snacks had been opened, and they had parked all the bowls under the chairs to avoid upsetting them.</p><p>“That’s a proper fort,” said Yaz, crawling in.</p><p>“Only the best! You should see the ones I made in the TARDIS. Went on forever. Well, almost literally.” The Doctor flopped onto her stomach on her pillow, coat splayed around her. Her shadow, too, flopped in a blob, projected against the sheets and chairs. “What should we do next?”</p><p>“Were you going to tell me what you were thinking back then, or was this all a diversion?” Yaz wasted no time. As always, she had patiently played along with the Doctor’s flurry of activity, the weight of their teatime conversation pulling at the back of her mind.</p><p>“I was getting around to it,” said the Doctor sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>The TARDIS kept pushing her on their route back to Sheffield, at first inconspicuously changing colors on the console buttons and making increasingly grumpy noises at the Doctor, finally flashing a previously nonexistent English ‘service engine” light under Yaz’s nose.</p><p>“Think you ought to check that?” asked Yaz when it popped up for the third time.</p><p>“Oh, that,” said the Doctor. The TARDIS beeped. <em>Tell her. Talk to her</em>. She ignored this, scrunching her nose as she explained. “It’s like a car, could be anything, probably will be alright for a bit longer. <em>Might </em>be a flaw in the vortex flux regulator, which means our cells would get stretched and molded into the fabric of reality like putty, but it’s probably nothing,” she added quickly to Yaz’s concerned expression. The Doctor put on a smile, which she could tell Yaz was not buying, but Yaz, bless her, didn’t pursue. Best to move on. “Corenia?”</p><p>After they had patched up from their unexpected acid rafting in pursuit of scavengers that had snuck onto the TARDIS and stolen parts from the console, and Yaz had retired to bed, the Doctor spent the night reaffixing the stolen pieces to the TARDIS. The TARDIS spent the night chiding the Doctor for ignoring her earlier.</p><p>“Is that why you let rogue scrappers in here? A tantrum?”</p><p>The TARDIS chimed an entire diatribe at her. <em>…you know I’m right, just talk to her and figure that out…</em></p><p>“Do you want me to fix this damage or not?” snapped the Doctor.</p><p><em>Do you want to get off this planet or not?</em>The TARDIS retorted with a gurgle. <em>You can’t ignore me forever, Doctor.</em></p><p>“No, I don’t suppose I can,” she sighed.</p><p>
  <em>What’s holding you back? Why can’t you—</em>
</p><p>“Because I can’t be in love!” she shouted. The TARDIS, which had been humming incessantly while the Doctor worked, went quiet. “I can’t be in love with Yasmin Khan because she won’t live this life forever. She’ll be a target. Like everyone else, she’ll… she’ll get hurt. Or she’ll leave.” The Doctor sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been alive, her life is like seconds to me.”</p><p>
  <em>But what a lovely handful of seconds.</em>
</p><p>The Doctor rested her chin on her knees. “You’d think I’d be used to the love and loss cycle by now.”</p><p>The TARDIS chirped. <em>So you do.</em></p><p>“I do what?”</p><p>
  <em>Love her. Yaz.</em>
</p><p>She didn’t respond, instead opting to glare at the wall.</p><p>
  <em>Just talk to her. No walls, no dodging.</em>
</p><p>The Doctor’s nose rumpled. “I hate it when you’re right.”</p><p>
  <em>Liar.</em>
</p><p>“Fine, I’ll talk to her. Next drop off, cross my hearts.”</p><p> </p><p>The Doctor steadily held Yaz’s gaze. “I’ll tell you what I was thinking, but we <em>were </em>talking about you.” And she waved her hand over the flashlight, shifting her eyes to the shadow it cast on the sheet above. Wiggling her fingers, she made a shadow puppet spider. “It’s okay to miss your family, Yaz. We can come back whenever you like. As often as you like.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Yaz, lying on her back to watch the Doctor cast a rabbit on their temporary ceiling.</p><p>“Sounds like there’s something else you’re not telling me.” The rabbit morphed into a flapping bird.</p><p>“How many times do I have to say it before you get it?”</p><p>“At least once more, but who says I don’t get it?” The bird became a stag, antlers and all.</p><p>Yaz took a deep breath. She shifted to rest her head on her arm. “It’s just… traveling with you. It’s mad and it’s dangerous and scary and it’s the best. And I know you keep things from me to protect me and other reasons you’re not saying, but I want to help. Because I meant it, I’d go with you forever, or at least as long as forever goes for me. Because I…” Yaz hesitated, suddenly blinded by the lack of hands pretending to be shadow animals on the ceiling. She glanced at the Doctor, who was watching her with the kindest expression. Her mouth went dry. “I…”</p><p>“You what, Yaz?” The Doctor’s voice was too soft, too gentle. Yaz almost wanted her to shout and blame her for something, anything, for asking to come back to Sheffield, for making their impromptu slumber party uncomfortable. Instead, Yaz let the silence fall, her mind in a torrent, repeating <em>I love you, I love you, say it, I love you</em>, over and over.</p><p>“Do you want to know what I was thinking?” asked the Doctor, lying on her side to face Yaz, who had turned her head to look at her. Hazel found brown in the yellow arc of the flashlight. “Come here,” she whispered.</p><p>Yaz lifted her head from the floor quizzically. “What?”</p><p>“Come here,” said the Doctor again.</p><p>Maneuvering around the pillow island that held the flashlight, Yaz crawled closer, her heart lodged painfully in her throat. Yaz had just lain down when, to her surprise and embarrassment, the Doctor folded her arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. The Doctor rested her chin on Yaz’s head, and Yaz inhaled peppermint and engine oil.</p><p>“I know,” the Doctor murmured.</p><p>“You do?”</p><p>“Bit of a madwoman, but I’m not daft, Yaz,” she said gently. “Say it or not, you don’t have to, but you’ve been telling me for a while.”</p><p>Yaz pressed her nose into the crook of the Doctor’s neck, her face warming with the skin contact. The Doctor’s pulse thrummed. “So, what happens now?”</p><p>“Whatever we like.” She kissed the Yaz’s forehead, and it was all Yaz could do to try not to burrow further. “I was thinking I’ve always said it, but you’re brilliant, Yasmin Khan. An awesome human. All of who you are is so bright.” Yaz’s breath tickled the Doctor’s neck. “And you’re right, half the subjectivity of ‘always’ starts with you. If this is what you want, for <em>your </em>always, you have to know it can’t be mine.” She swallowed as Yaz tensed against her. What to say next… <em>Be kind</em>. “I might outlive you by centuries, Yaz, millennia, even, but I can still carry you with me.”</p><p>Yaz nodded against the Doctor’s skin, relaxing again. “You <em>are </em>the best person I’ve ever met,” she mumbled, snuggling closer.</p><p>“I do my best. Not always enough, but it’s all I can do,” said the Doctor.</p><p>“Is this okay?” asked Yaz after a while. “Whatever this is?”</p><p>“More important question, are you okay?”</p><p>“S’not more important,” mumbled Yaz.</p><p>“Absolutely is. You’ve been holding onto this a while.” The Doctor’s arms tightened around her.</p><p>“Are <em>you </em>okay?” asked Yaz.</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“I dunno, I can never tell what’s going on in your head.”</p><p>“Better you didn’t.”</p><p>“It’s hard to love someone you don’t feel like you know.”</p><p>The Doctor felt the space between her eyebrows crease once, then the creases multiplied. “Are you sure you want this?” she asked quietly. And she felt Yaz nod against her chest. “Look at me,” she whispered and Yaz peeked up from the hollow of the Doctor’s neck. Carefully, the Doctor placed her fingertips against Yaz’s temple, her mind stretching forward through the touch. <em>Contact</em>.</p><p>She wasn’t going to show Yaz <em>everything</em>. Everything implied more information than Yaz’s brain had capacity for, like a hard drive of several gigabytes trying to contain a terabyte. Overloading Yaz like that would probably turn her into scrambled egg. <em>Just the highlights reel, then</em>. The Doctor didn’t feel the need to speak through it, but in the mix of flashbacks to battles, Christmases upended by alien activity, Rose and Martha and Donna and Amy and all the rest aboard the TARDIS, the Master’s appearances, and a few of her own regenerations, she did her best to emphasize what she was feeling; all the anger and sadness and joy and love blurring together in one pulsing mass of thought.</p><p>“You think I can verbalize all of that?” she whispered finally, severing the link and looking at the floor.</p><p>“There’s so much,” said Yaz, staring. A tear fell from her left eye, and the Doctor reached across to brush it away with her thumb.</p><p>“Just a couple fragments. Didn’t want to overwhelm you.” She took Yaz’s hand and pulled her in again. They nestled on the blankets, fingers twining shyly. Even hands were a whole new frontier for touch. The Doctor’s entire body felt covered in electricity, Yaz warm against her, touch signals from nerve endings live and zooming back and forth. She listened to Yaz breathe slowly against her collarbone, displaced air feathery on her skin. One of her hearts skipped a beat as she realized that Yaz had fallen asleep. Carefully, the Doctor reached back and pulled a blanket over them both. And she pressed the flashlight button, darkness coming to rest over them in the shelter of the fort.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, friends!</p><p>This one took a while; it took a few unexpected detours here and there. I find the more sedate, domestic sort of fics and chapters like to take their time.</p><p>If you liked what you read, smash any buttons you like. Your comments delight me to no end.</p><p>Be kind, always.</p><p>--Jo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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